


the particles of a quiet yearning

by teatin



Category: DC Extended Universe, Wonder Woman (Movies - Jenkins)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It, Pining, Reincarnation, Steve Trevor Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28430541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teatin/pseuds/teatin
Summary: “You know… sometimes, there’s something so familiar about you. I know it’s impossible, but I feel as if we’d known each other before. Sounds crazy, right?”She quickly averts her gaze before he has the chance to look her in the eyes, and steadfastly ignores the way every fiber of her being is aching to scream out,it’s me, Steve. It’s Diana.She wishes, more than anything, for him to hold her in his arms, the way he used to. She wants to weep into the crook of his neck like a child, with tears of years of suppressed pain and longing and loneliness.I’ve missed you so much, she wants to say. You can’t imagine how difficult it’s been without you.Instead, she puts on her most stoic, detached expression and chuckles like it’s the funniest joke she’s ever heard. Because it is. Her life, that is.The man she loves does not remember her, and it must stay this way. Even if it kills her. (Post-WW84 fix-it)
Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman)/Steve Trevor
Comments: 12
Kudos: 108





	the particles of a quiet yearning

**Author's Note:**

> Because we all need to fix the mess that is WW84. This fic takes place post-Justice League (2017), and is canon compliant for the two WW movies, except for the body possession thing. Fuck that plot point with a rusty knife.

Some days, Diana is so busy that time feels like a blur. Between her commitments to the Justice League and her duties as curator for the Met, nowadays she hardly gets a moment to catch her breath.

In a way, she’s grateful for it. It keeps her mind from wandering to places she would rather not venture too deep into. It’s taken her a while, but Diana thinks she’s finally found a routine that works for her. Safe, comfortable, familiar, if a bit repetitive, but that’s a small price to pay.

She likes it.

Except when she has to deal with A.R.G.U.S. constantly needling them about their every movement. In the hundred years she’s been in this world, she’s grown used to the whispers, the suspicious glances, the interrogative tones. She doesn’t let those things bother her anymore. The mission always comes first. Anything else is of little consequence.

She doesn’t think she can ever get used to A.R.G.U.S. More specifically, its leader, a certain Amanda Waller.

Of course, her status as Ambassador means that most of the responsibility to deal with them falls upon her shoulders. It’s a role she takes on earnestly, albeit not eagerly. Despite her best efforts (and Diana considers herself a decent actor when she wants to be), Amanda Waller must’ve picked up on her lack of enthusiasm, because earlier today, she received a message informing her that A.R.G.U.S. will be assigning a different agent to act as their liaison.

(That, or Waller’s responsibilities as Director have finally convinced her to start delegating. Diana hopes it’s the latter.)

Which is why Diana finds herself standing in front of the A.R.G.U.S. HQ, taking a deep breath before entering, her chin held high, her shoulders squared.

She follows the long winding corridor, taking in her surroundings. White walls, white marble floor, white lights, only occasionally punctuated by metal steel doors on either side of her. Minimalist, clinical. Agents, some in plain clothes, some in full body armor, patrol the area. Outwardly, they seem relaxed and at ease, but Diana knows it’s just a façade; they’re no doubt ready to pounce at the smallest sign of trouble. This place is cold, and oppressive, and serious in a way that makes Diana long for the sunshine and fresh air as though she’s been cooped up in the building for years rather than just a few minutes.

The agent standing before the door with the sign ‘Director’ gives her a curt nod before stepping aside. He doesn’t need to ask who she is. They all know her. The reminder makes her yearn for a simpler time, a time when anonymity allowed her some measure of peace and comfort. A time when people didn’t take one look at her and automatically see her as something untouchable and sacred.

Almost instinctively, her mind returns to a man she had loved and lost so many years ago. The person who knew her at the start of her journey, when she was simply naïve, wide-eyed Diana. The one person who couldn’t see it through to the end, who left her with nothing but grief, regret, and what-ifs.

Okay, maybe she hadn’t been entirely truthful to herself. Her mind does wander _there_ a lot. Sometimes randomly, sometimes at the slightest provocation. She tries not to let it. She’s afraid that if she gets lost in the memory, she may never be able to return. But every now and then, she allows herself to graze the periphery of those memories with her fingertips. She’s scared that if she doesn’t, she will eventually forget.

And she doesn’t want to forget. She doesn’t want to let go. Not yet.

After all she’s done for the world, isn’t she allowed just a little bit of selfishness?

“Miss Prince?” The agent’s voice cuts through her subconscious, bringing her back to reality. When she shakes herself from the reverie, he’s regarding her with an expectant look. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, of course, sorry,” she flashes him her most charming smile, taking care to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear for the added effect. “Would it really be okay for me to come in? Director Waller seems rather occupied at the moment.”

Even from here, she can hear the sound of muffled conversation inside the room. Someone chuckles softly, and the sound stirs a strange feeling in her stomach for the briefest of moments, but she pushes it away. She’s here on official Justice League business, to meet their new liaison. She can’t afford any more distractions, especially not in front of Amanda Waller.

“It appears so, but Director Waller specifically gave you permission to come in at any time. She says that if you wait for her schedule to clear up, you might be waiting a long time.”

Diana mutters a polite thank you to the agent before knocking once, then twice. She hears a “Come in!” from Waller, but otherwise the conversation goes on uninterrupted. She pushes down on the cold, metallic door handle and swings it open.

“Ah, Miss Prince, here you are,” Waller says, giving Diana a perfunctory glance before her attention shifts back to the man half-leaning on her desk, his back turned toward Diana. “Come in, make yourself comfortable. I’m just about finished with the Colonel here.”

“I believe we’ve discussed all there is to discuss, Director,” The man says, standing up straight, and Diana’s heart leaps up to her throat.

Suddenly, the world is turning at the speed of light, and she can’t catch up.

She knows that voice.

No matter how much time has passed, she remembers it, clear as if it was only yesterday. For years, she’d closed her eyes at and tried to memorize the voice, until she could hear it so clearly that she felt as if she could reach out and he’d be right there next to her. For years, she’d agonized that there would come a day when she would wake up and the voice would have faded from her mind.

“Are you okay?” The man asks, and there’s genuine concern in his voice. She feels like she might burst into tears right then and there, and she is both shamed and liberated by it at the same time.

“I – I’m okay,” Diana manages, mentally chiding herself for losing her calm and getting called out on it twice in the span of less than five minutes. She takes a moment to collect herself, lets out a shaky breath, and looks at the man for the first time.

A soft smile. The same smile he gave her so long ago, in a little Belgian village that no longer exists. The same smile that guided her through her first dance under the snow. The same smile that told her goodbye amid raging smoke and fire on an airfield on a cold November night. The same smile on that chaotic street in D.C., urging her to save the world even as she tore away from him, feeling as if she’d torn out a part of her soul with him.

_Steve._

Soft, blue eyes. Blue eyes the color of the ocean, the color of the healing springs of Themyscira.

He’s here. He’s really here. She feels the world sway slightly, and it takes every ounce of self-control for her to steady herself.

“It’s an honor to finally meet you,” the man says. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

No, it’s not him. It must be a trick of the light. Someone with a similar face. Maybe she’s been thinking about him so much that she’s starting to see him. Steve is gone, and that is the Truth she must accept. The Truth she’s spent every day for the past century reminding herself.

Her knee-jerk reaction is to use her Lasso, but when she sees Waller’s piercing, intrusive gaze, as if threatening to expose all of her inner thoughts, she decides against it. There will be time for questions later. For now, she must put her walls up.

The man, she notices, starts to feel a little awkward, no doubt by the way she’s staring at him. He clears his throat softly. “Is this a bad time? We can save this for later-”

“No, wait,” Amanda Waller stops him, and Diana is almost grateful that Waller did it, because she isn’t sure if she could, and she wouldn’t forgive herself either if she’d let him slip between her fingers without getting some answers.

He stops, throwing an inquiring look at Waller.

“You two haven’t met, have you?” Waller offers. She sounds overly cheerful and casual to the point it makes Diana uneasy, and she makes a mental note to file it away for later. For now, she’s just focused on the man in front of her.

“No, I don’t believe we have,” Diana says, trying to sound nonchalant. Like her entire world hadn’t just been turned on its head. Like it wasn’t spinning all around her, making her doubt her own sanity. Her grip instinctively tightens around the golden lasso at her hip, just to steady herself.

“I believe I was leading an operation in Bwunda at the time,” Steve – The man – explains helpfully. “Though I didn’t think I needed an introduction – your reputation precedes you, Miss Prince.”

“Diana,” she says, too quickly and too eagerly. “You can call me Diana.”

He regards her for a moment, his expression unreadable.

“Diana.” He repeats. “Colonel Steve Trevor.”

This must be a cruel joke. If the universe thinks it has a sense of humor, Diana would beg to differ. None of this is remotely funny. Could it be Amanda Waller’s doing? One of her sick mind games?

He extends his hand and Diana shakes it, her mind on autopilot. He looks at her for another minute, and Diana thinks there may be a hint of _something_ in his eyes, but the spark is gone just as quickly as it appeared, and he retracts his hand.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Diana. Officially,” He clears his throat, then turns to Waller. “I must really be off, Director.”

“You’re dismissed, Colonel Trevor.”

Diana blurts out before she can stop herself. “I hope to see more of you, Colonel Trevor.”

“Oh, you will,” Waller says, closely watching the two of them, likely gauging Diana’s reaction. Diana puts on her best poker face, steadfastly refusing to give her any satisfaction in an answer.

“Colonel Trevor here is to be your new liaison. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve already discussed the finer details with him beforehand, he needs to be somewhere else very soon. But I assure you our next meeting will have the full participation of all involved.”

Diana nods absent-mindedly, her gaze still fixed on Steve, who, at this point, seems equally transfixed with her.

“I look forward to working with you, Colonel Steve Trevor,” Diana says. She’s almost surprised by how detached she sounds, like her voice came from another person, another body that is not hers.

“Likewise, Diana,” Steve replies. His tone is professional, but she can see that he’s lost his nonchalant demeanor from when she walked into the room. Something has shaken him, has made him stop and consider, and that tiny flicker of hope burns in her heart with the intensity of a thousand suns.

He turns to leave, then looks back over his shoulder one last time. “I don’t think I shall ever forget a face like yours.”

Diana has to bite back a bitter laugh.

Steve inclines his head toward Waller one last time, then leaves.

Standing there, Diana feels as if a piece of her soul has been ripped right out of her chest. But she bites back the tears, puts on a stoic face, and turns back to Amanda Waller.

After all, there is still business to be done. And if there is one thing Diana has learned from the two times she’s lost Steve, is that life goes on, no matter what.

She runs into him again soon after. Far too soon.

“Diana,” he greets her cheerfully in the hallway one morning. For one startled moment, she almost considers running, before she shakes herself, takes a deep breath, and forces her most diplomatic smile.

“Colonel Trevor.”

He grins at her. “Director Waller’s not watching. Steve is fine.”

Diana bites her lip. She’s not ready. Not yet.

She says it anyway, doing her best to keep her voice from trembling. “Steve.”

The smile he gives her is almost blinding. It reminds her of happier times, and she almost breaks. Instinctively, she reaches for her lasso to tether herself.

“There. No need for formalities. After all, we’ll be seeing each other a lot from now on, won’t we?”

He sounds relaxed, at ease. Just like he was the last time she saw him, and so different from the first time they met. He had been so guarded then, so tired of the world and all of its evils. Seeing this side of him, the carefree, happy side she’d only glimpsed briefly, stirs something strange within her that she can’t quite describe.

“Yes.”

As if sensing that she’s not in the mood for conversation, he moves to make a tactical retreat. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Diana.”

She only nods absent-mindedly and watches as he makes his way down the cold, sterile hallway until he rounds a corner and disappears from view.

She doesn’t need to ask. Not when the answer is so clear before her eyes.

He doesn’t know her.

She considers demanding answers from Amanda Waller, at first. The woman is the shadiest person Diana has ever had the misfortune of knowing, and if there’s one thing she’s certain about Waller, it’s that every single thing she does is a deliberate, calculated move in a grand chess game that no one else is privy to.

Diana decides against it. If there’s something bigger at play here, she needs to play her cards carefully.

The questions keep her up at night. She had worked with A.R.G.U.S. before, how had she missed him? It’s unlikely she would’ve forgotten someone with the exact same face and name as her first love. Waller must’ve had access to her file and seen the photograph of him. _Her_ Steve, the one who fought by her side during the Great War. Is that why she’s dangling him in front of her now? Why does he not remember her? Did divine intervention bring him back to her?

If so, what is the price she must pay this time?

They start seeing more of each other. Initially, Diana dreads being in his presence. Not that she dislikes him in any way, obviously. She’s afraid that it would bring back too many painful memories, scars she had worked so hard to heal. For the first few weeks, she does everything in her power to ensure that they would only see each other in a professional capacity, leaving no room for idle chit-chat.

Until one day.

“Here, our latest report,” Steve announces, passing her the file. As he does, their fingers accidentally brush against each other.

Instantly, Diana shudders. Flashes of another life play before her eyes. A snowy Belgian village filled with song. The crackling of the hearth in her room at the inn, the feeling of rough skin underneath her fingertips-

“Diana? Are you cold?” Steve asks, concerned.

“No, I’m fine,” Amazons don’t get cold. But this Steve doesn’t know that. Of course, _her_ Steve hadn’t known it then, either. He’d wrapped her in his old coat. He was being kind then, as he is now.

The familiarity of it all almost brings her to tears.

“Diana?” Steve’s voice pierces through her train of thought, and she realizes that she’s now holding his hand, perhaps a bit too tight. Steve seems unfazed by this, his focus solely on her.

“I’m sorry,” she quickly retracts her hand and tries to busy herself with the file, but Steve gently pries the clipboard from her hands. Diana cringes, expecting him to give her a pitying look, as they all do, but finds nothing of the sort when she looks into his eyes. Just… warmth.

“Why don’t we take a little break?” he suggests.

That’s how they end up talking about something other than work, for once. From what Steve tells her, she’s able to gather some more details. He’s thirty-five, born and raised on a ranch somewhere in the Midwest. He has one older sister, and a niece and nephew. He enlisted in the Air Force after graduation, and has been with A.R.G.U.S. for a little more than four years.

(Reincarnation it is, then. She’d heard the tales and read about it in the books in her mother’s library, but never quite believed it. Until now, of course. She doesn’t know what to do with the information, but at least that’s one question answered.)

This Steve has lived an entirely new life, and it sounds like a damn good one. He’s had completely different experiences. He has people who love him whom Diana has never met, he has happy memories that she wasn’t a part of. Looking at him now, it’s as if Diana is seeing a vision: of what _her_ Steve might’ve been, had the war not worn him down and broken his optimism.

Except this isn’t a vision. _This_ Steve is very much real.

(She can’t take this away from him. She just can’t. So she takes her pain and buries it in the farthest corner of her mind. Because that’s what she’s good at, burying memories of things that are dead and gone.

Dead and gone to all but her.)

“You know, we’ve been talking about me a lot,” he observes, passing her a strawberry-flavored Pop-Tart ( _“I won’t tell if you won’t_ ,” he’d said cheekily at her incredulous look when he revealed his stash). “For someone so famous, precious little is known about you.”

“There isn’t anything special, really,” Diana says. “I don’t get out much.”

“Too busy saving the world? And don’t say there’s nothing special about you. You’ve witnessed so much. They say you fought in the First World War. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.”

Diana almost freezes, but manages to recover at the last moment. She smiles. “It wasn’t as exciting as people think it is.”

She quickly changes the topic.

From that day on, she finds it easier, working with Steve. Whether it’s going through mind-numbingly dull paperwork or venturing out into the field together, they gradually grow more comfortable with each other. Diana is surprised to find how easy it is to open up to him, as they fall into a comfortable rhythm. It’s as if they’ve known each other for far longer than the short few weeks since that fateful day in Amanda Waller’s office.

(Well, at least some part of that is true, but he will never know that.)

Once, she catches him staring at her over the small pile of files haphazardly strewn across the table. He quickly averts his gaze, and she finds herself smiling, despite herself.

“What is it, Steve?” she quips. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No, no, it’s just,” he takes a deep breath. “It’s nothing. You look great. You look… beautiful.”

She turns back to her work and pretends she doesn’t hear it.

Diana wakes up one day to find that it is snowing. Another white Christmas for her, it seems. She doesn’t complain. She’s always loved snow. It’s one of the many things that never quite manage to get old, no matter how long she’s been in this strange, wonderful world. She calls out of work, gets dressed, and sets out down the street.

It’s her own little tradition. Whenever it snows, she goes out and breathes it all in. It’s a reminder that despite all the horrible things she has witnessed, the world remains abound with beauty. It’s also a reminder of a time long gone, of all the firsts she’d shared with the nameless people that history no longer remembers.

(She wonders how long she’ll be holding onto these memories. Does an immortal Amazon ever truly forget?)

As Diana strolls through the local Christmas fair, she takes in the sights of lovers huddling together, shoppers hustling around, and children playing in the snow, their laughter echoing through the air. Somewhere in the distance, a street performer plays a familiar tune. She tilts her head up toward the sky and closes her eyes.

_It’s magical!_

_It is, isn’t it?_

“Diana?”

She opens her eyes to find a familiar face standing before her with an armful of paper bags. It’s the first time she’s seen him out in the real world. Out of his A.R.G.U.S.-issued body armor and not illuminated by the cold, fluorescent light of the HQ, he looks even more real and somehow achingly familiar.

“Steve.”

“Finally taking a break from saving the world?” he asks, juggling with the bags in his arms.

“This is what people do, don’t they?” she shrugs casually. “When the world doesn’t need saving.”

He smiles. “You really don’t get out much.”

She narrows her eyes in mock offense. “I get out _enough_ , thank you very much.”

She takes one of his bags (he protests, but she insists anyway), and together, they make their way through the fair. Diana ends up buying a few ornaments, just to brighten up the apartment a little.

(Things do get pretty lonely and repetitive at home. She supposes that’s what happens when one has all the time in the world and no one to share it with.)

Diana’s looking at a fluffy Santa puppet when she catches Steve staring at her, his expression unreadable.

“What is it?” she asks. “And don’t say nothing, it hasn’t been convincing the last three times you said it and it won’t be convincing now.”

Steve looks as if he’s wrestling with an invisible force. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other and bites his lip. Finally, he speaks, his voice somewhat hesitant.

“It’s just - You know… sometimes, there’s something so familiar about you. I know it’s impossible, but I feel as if we’d known each other before. Sounds crazy, right?”

She quickly averts her gaze before he has the chance to look her in the eyes, and steadfastly ignores the way every fiber of her being is aching to scream out, _it’s me, Steve. It’s Diana._ She wishes, more than anything, for him to hold her in his arms, the way he used to. She wants to weep into the crook of his neck like a child, with tears of years of suppressed pain and longing and loneliness. _I’ve missed you so much_ , she wants to say. _You can’t imagine how difficult it’s been without you._

Instead, she puts on her most stoic, detached expression and chuckles like it’s the funniest joke she’s ever heard. Because it is. Her life, that is.

The man she loves does not remember her, and it must stay this way. Even if it kills her.

It was because of her that Steve was even in the thickest part of the war to begin with. It was because of her selfish whims that he was roused from his eternal rest and then cruelly ripped away from life again. She can’t do it to him again. She’s not strong enough to pay the price.

Steve finally has everything she could ever hope for him – a happy, fulfilling life in a time of peace, with a family who love him, with friends who care about him, working for a cause he believes in. Without the scars of war, and the burden of witnessing the worst that mankind has to offer, over and over again.

What do her feelings matter, compared to all of that?

“I don’t understand,” Amanda Waller says, her brows creasing in confusion and displeasure. Not that Diana cares much for the latter. “You and Colonel Trevor have been working well together. Your teamwork is excellent.”

“It’s not a problem with Colonel Trevor,” she explains. “A break, is all I ask. Even superheroes need one.”

Waller leans back into her chair, and for a moment Diana fears she might’ve seen through her ruse, but after an excruciatingly long silence, she nods.

“Very well. Shall I inform the Colonel, or do you wish to tell him yourself?”

“Would you, please? If it’s not too much trouble.”

She hardly waits for a response before walking out.

He intercepts her in the hallway the next day. Diana mentally curses herself, of course hoping that he would just let it go was too good to be true. He is Steve, after all, and if there’s one thing she knows about Steve, is that the man will do things his way, come hell or high water.

“Was it something I said?” he asks.

“Steve, please, not here,” she whispers, eyes darting to a couple curious agents loitering in the hall, all trying to inconspicuously eavesdrop on their conversation.

She pulls him into an empty meeting room and locks the door behind them. When she turns around, Steve is standing with his arms crossed.

“Diana, are you avoiding me?” he asks, though there’s no malice in his voice. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Not everything is about you, Steve,” she retorts, hoping he’d be put off by her tone and stop asking questions. “Maybe I simply decided to take your advice, spend some time on myself.”

“I don’t believe that,” Steve says. “There’s something else here.”

“Even if there was, it’s none of your concern.”

They stand there in silence, at a stalemate. Neither wanting to yield. Both refusing to budge.

“You’re really not going to tell me?” his voice almost impossibly quiet.

Diana bites her lip and stands her ground. “What is there to tell?”

Finally, Steve sighs. “I’ve been having dreams. Visions. Little flashes, fragments… like a movie. They started a little after I first met you, and have been growing more frequent.”

She really hopes he can’t hear the sound of her heart thrumming in her ribcage.

“I mean, at first I didn’t really care. Who doesn’t have weird dreams, right? But then… I started seeing you in them.”

It takes all of Diana’s strength to maintain her composure. “We’ve been seeing each other a lot. It happens.”

“You were there, in the trenches, crossing the battlefield, fighting soldiers in German uniform.”

She clenches her fists at her side to stop herself from trembling. “Maybe you’re just remembering war stories you read somewhere. It’s nothing unusual.”

“Isn’t it?” Steve raises an eyebrow. “Then how come I know that there’s magical healing springs on your island? The one we sneaked out of on a boat when we got caught by your mother? Where did I get that, Diana? Because it wasn’t from history textbooks.”

“Steve, don’t. Please don’t make this any harder.”

He reaches out to touch her shoulder, but Diana shrugs him away. He makes no further attempt to get closer, instead staying where he is.

“Why are you doing this, Diana? I know you remember, too. Why-”

She furiously wipes at the hot tears rolling down her cheeks. “It’s better this way. Nothing good comes out of this. You’re better off forgetting about me.”

“How can I forget, when I’ve only just started to remember? Diana, please-” Steve takes her hand, and she has to stop herself from the urge to fall into his arms that currently threatening to swallow her whole.

She pulls out of his grasp. “Just think of it as a dream. A beautiful dream, perhaps, but all dreams end. Eventually, we return to reality. You have a wonderful life. That’s your reality. You don’t need me to mess it up.”

Steve looks visibly frustrated now. “Don’t I get a say in this? Diana, don’t I-”

“Goodbye, Steve.”

Before he can protest further, she unlocks the door and exits, speeding down the hallway.

She never thought it possible, but out of all their goodbyes, this one is by far the hardest.

She gets a leave of absence from Justice League duties. No one protests, or even dares to look her in the eyes, but she can feel their gaze boring into her every time her back is turned. She can almost hear what they must be thinking, _poor Diana, there she goes again, moping._

She can’t wait to get away.

And so Diana packs up, moves back into her Paris apartment, and puts her phone on silent (but not off, in case something comes up. Just in case).

Steve doesn’t contact her again. She can’t decide if what she feels is relief or disappointment.

No one else attempts to contact her, either. Diana finds that she likes it this way. She needs more time. Time for what, she’s not entirely sure. She just needs to be _away_ from it all.

It doesn’t last long. Her phone screen lights up one gloomy day, and she almost knocks her armchair back in a hurry to get it.

She looks at the contact name on the screen. _Bruce._

Of course.

She presses answer. “Hello, Bruce.”

A deep, rumbling voice comes from the line. “Diana. How long are you planning on being away? We need you.”

“Has something happened?”

A beat. And then, “You know you’re always needed.”

She runs a hand through her face. “What I _need_ was to get away from it all.”

“From it all… or from him?”

Diana lets out an exasperated sigh. “Not you too, Bruce. I thought out of all people, you’d understand better than most.”

Bruce’s voice softens. “I know you mean well. But why are you the only one making decisions? Don’t you think he deserves to have a say in this?”

Not this again. She grimaces. “You don’t know him like I do. Once he’s made up his mind about something, good luck trying to talk him out of it.”

“This is unlike you, Diana. I’ve never known you to run when things get hard.”

“I’m not, I just- ” she hesitates. “Just a while longer, I promise. Until things between us aren’t so… fresh.”

She hears Bruce audibly sigh. “I’m not sure we have that much time.”

Diana freezes mid-walk. “What do you mean?”

A long silence. She repeats, more impatiently. “What do you mean, Bruce?”

“I’m not supposed to say anything,” he begins, carefully. Diana has never heard Bruce Wayne sound so hesitant, so unsure. It scares her. “But Colonel Trevor went on a mission last week. A.R.G.U.S. HQ lost contact with him five days ago.”

“Why didn’t you lead with that?” she all but screeches, unable to keep the fury from her voice. “Oh, Gods, Steve…”

“I’m breaking every single one of our agreements with A.R.G.U.S. telling you this. They won’t be pleased, but I thought you’d want to know-”

“Text me his last known location,” she demands.

“Already on it.” A moment later, her phone pings. She quickly scans the coordinates, mentally pinpointing the exact location.

“Thank you, Bruce.”

“Listen, Diana, if you need backup, I can send-”

Diana doesn’t listen to the rest. She tosses her phone onto the couch, puts on her armor, slides the doors to the balcony open, and takes flight.

As it turns out, her search leads her deep into the Amazon rainforest. It’s only when her feet touch down on the damp forest ground that she realizes, she’s just flown halfway across the world to uncharted territory, completely unprepared.

Well, no time to worry about that now. These aren’t the first forests she’s navigated, they certainly won’t be the last. The important thing is to find Steve and bring him home.

Diana prays to Athena to lend her wisdom. She prays to Soteria to protect Steve from harm.

Near Steve’s last known coordinates, she finds a discarded compass, its surface slightly cracked. Pushing away her darkest thoughts, she presses on.

The dark thoughts come back anyway, circling her like vultures, waiting for a weakness to strike.

She thinks back on their last conversation. The way she had completely shut him out, deeming herself the only one capable of making the right choice. Bruce was right. It was unfair to Steve. She was wrong.

Was she wrong all along? Should she have told him the truth from the beginning? What if that had somehow jogged his memories, and they would’ve had more time together? Were they given one last chance, and she blew it?

 _He has to be okay_ , she tells herself. There’s so much more she hasn’t told him _. I missed you. I’m sorry. I love you._ This isn’t how their story ends.

She hears a movement, ever so slight, coming from a nearby cave, nearly obscured from view by an overgrowth, and heads in its direction.

When Diana bursts into the cavern, the sight before her eyes almost gives her pause. Laid out before her is some sort of elaborate ritual. A circle of what looks to be cultists in robes, and in the middle of it all, Steve.

“Steve,” she lets out a shaky breath, but before she can take another step, the men in the room open fire.

Holding up her arms, she expertly deflects. Just another game of Bullets and Bracelets, and she’s long mastered it. She moves on autopilot, her mind solely focused on the man lying motionless in the middle of the room. _Please be alright_ , she prays silently.

Diana dispatches the rest of the men in quick succession, restraining them all with her lasso. _A.R.G.U.S. should’ve sent me, and this entire operation would’ve been over as quickly as it began_ , she thinks, before remembering that she had requested a leave and gone into self-imposed exile on another continent. Had she been available, Steve would’ve never been in this situation-

Gods, she just keeps messing things up, doesn’t she?

Quickly, she sends a message through the Justice League comms, alerting them of her location and requesting backup, before running over to Steve.

“Steve,” she calls his name gently, almost reverently. “Steve, wake up.”

To her immense relief, he stirs, groaning softly.

“Steve,” she tries again, cupping his face in her hands. “Can you hear me?”

“…Diana?” groggily, he takes in his surroundings. “How did you- Where am I?”

“You’re safe now,” she promises, taking both of his hand in hers. “Don’t worry, help is on the way.”

He looks as if he wants to say more, but his strength gives out, and soon he drifts out of consciousness again.

Diana holds him in her arms. Relief washes over her as she feels the steady beat of his heart and the even rhythm of his breathing.

She makes a promise to herself, right then and there. She’ll never let him go again, for as long as they both shall live.

After all, not many people get second chances, let alone third ones. Diana only regrets that it’s taken her so long to see it, but she intends to make the best out of every moment she is given, no matter how brief, no matter how painful.

One tense conversation with Amanda Waller later, and Diana thinks she finally has the whole picture. Steve had been dispatched to deal with what A.R.G.U.S. assumed was a simple enough case of smugglers stealing some ancient artifacts, which later spiraled into Steve almost being sacrificed at the altar to some plant God. They still don’t have all the details, Waller says. They’re looking into it and will keep her posted, she adds.

“Did you know about Steve?” Diana asks. “About who he was?”

Waller is silent for a long moment, looking as if she’s weighing her options. Finally, she shrugs. “Yes.”

“Is that why you recruited him?”

Waller gives her a _look_ , so Diana continues. “I’ve just saved your operation. The least you can do is give me something in return. Even if that something is only half the truth.”

Waller continues their staring contest, so Diana reaches for the lasso at her hip. “Don’t make me use it.”

At this, she relents. “Fine. We thought we’d finally gotten ourselves an interesting case and wanted to study him. Super-humans are our specialty, Miss Prince. His association with you was just an added bonus.”

“You wanted me to help you figure it out, like he was a science project,” she clarifies.

“I assure you, we have never meant him any harm.”

Diana stands up. “We’ll be revising certain terms in our agreement. Consider this you returning the favor for me rounding up those cultists for you. Batman will be in touch.”

With that, she walks out.

She visits Steve in the private hospital room with the best facilities and equipment money can buy (courtesy of a certain Mr. Bruce Wayne and his infinite fortune). The first few days, he’s mostly groggy and disoriented. Finally, on the third day, Steve seems to have regained most of his strength and awareness of his surroundings. For the first time, he seems to register her presence.

“Hi, there,” she says, pulling up a chair next to his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been run over by a truck,” he deadpans. 

Diana chuckles. “I see you’re doing much better already.”

They sit in silence for a couple minutes, Steve taking in the fancy hospital room, and Diana fiddling with her fingers. Finally, she decides to bite the bullet.

“I’m sorry.”

Steve looks genuinely confused. “For what?”

“Everything,” she feels tears welling up in her eyes. “For not telling you the truth, for trying to push you away, for putting you in danger.”

“You didn’t put me in danger.”

“Yes, I did. And the worst part is, I thought what I was doing was protecting you,” she takes his hand in hers. “And I really wanted to keep you safe. I still do.”

Steve smiles. “You know you can’t do that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Danger is a part of our lives. You think that it’s you who puts me in danger, but the truth is, I face it every day, with or without you in my life.”

Diana smiles sadly. “And I suppose there’s no convincing you otherwise?”

He gives her a meaningful look. “You already know the answer to that.”

She knows he’s right. Steve has always been a free spirit, going wherever the wind takes him. If she takes this away from him, if she clips his wings just to keep him whole and unscathed, it would be akin to killing him. No. Love is allowing them the freedom to make their own choices, good or bad.

That is the Truth she must accept. But there is yet another Truth she must admit, to him and to herself.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve thought about you every single day. Every morning I wake up and wish you were next to me. Every night I fall asleep and dream of you holding me. I love you. I don’t think I ever stopped.”

“Diana-”

“And I understand if you’ve changed your mind about us,” she adds quickly, before he has a chance to protest. “I’ve given you nothing but grief, and-”

He gives her another look. _“Diana.”_

She laughs. “Right. You’re right. I’m doing it again. It’s just- I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fight it, that compulsion to keep you from harm.”

“And that’s what I love about you,” he says gently. “You protect. You give yourself in service of others, and you never ask for anything in return. You’re a hero, Diana, the greatest I’ve ever known, but… even heroes need someone in their corner.”

He shifts so that his hands are now covering hers. “Let me be that someone. I can’t promise I’ll be good for much, you’ll probably still have to do most of the heavy lifting, but… anything you need, anywhere you go… I’ll be with you. For as long as I live.”

Diana can feel tears well up in her eyes, but this time, she doesn’t stop them. For the first time in over a century, she feels light, like a burden has finally, blessedly been lifted off her shoulders.

She leans over until their foreheads are practically touching. And then, slowly, as if they both still can’t believe it’s real, their lips meet, gently, sweetly, and it feels like coming home for the last time, and knowing this is where you’ll stay.

Even after all this time, the two of them still have so much to learn.

Diana resumes her work with the League. She spends more time with her teammates, listening to the sound of their laughter, shaking her head at their antics. She goes on fewer solo missions. She responds to Barry’s jokes with her own, and graciously accepts Arthur’s arm wrestling challenges (she even lets him win every now and then).

It’s funny, how much happiness and love she could find all around her, if only she’d had the courage to look.

Bruce slides over to her one day. Somewhere in the background, Barry is loudly wrestling Victor for the game controller.

“You look well,” he notes.

“I am well,” she concurs. “I’m… happy.”

“I’m glad,” he touches her shoulder. “You deserve it.”

He leaves her side and walks over to break up the fight. Diana smiles. Bruce has always been a man of few words, but she knows. He’s been there, too, before he found his family. He gets it.

She’s happy for him, too. Everyone needs a little light in their life. Even creatures who lurk in the shadows.

Steve continues his work with A.R.G.U.S., under amended terms. He hopes to change it one day. Turn it legit. Until that day comes, he’ll keep fighting.

Diana doesn’t stop worrying. The fears never truly go away. Every time Steve leaves on a mission, the uncertainty of it all gnaws at her, and every time without fail, she feels the warmth of his embrace and the reassuring beat of his heart enveloping her. She leans into it.

That’s how she realizes: it gets easier with time.

It doesn’t matter to her if they have one day, a few years, or the rest of their lives. They have each other, to love freely and openly and without regret, and that’s all that matters.

For now, that is enough.

_fin_

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the part where Steve is almost sacrificed to a plant God is a shameless reference to Greg Rucka's second Wonder Woman run, which I recommend to anyone looking to get into WW comics.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading! WW84 was... something else, huh. If you want to talk to me about WW84, Diana/Steve, or just general Wonder Woman things, you can find me on tumblr @wondertrevor
> 
> Wishing everyone a happy new year!


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